“We followed the oracle last night.” Fletch straightened his shoulders, trying hard to look professional; trying to look like a warrior. “She went to a restaurant, alone. There was a private event going on. We waited for her, but when she left there was a man with her.”

Spode frowned. “One of the people who attended the event?”

“Must have been,” Fletch said. “No one else was allowed inside. Looked like a hookup. The guy didn’t seem to be a problem at first. Figured he was an accountant or something. We knew we could handle him if it came to that. Ink was able to get a fix on the oracle with his recorder, but before he could do his thing the oracle and the man who had picked her up went into another restaurant. We had to wait while they ate dinner.”

“Go on,” Spode said.

“When they left the restaurant they started walking. There weren’t many people around so Ink used the recorder again. All of a sudden the oracle and the guy with her started running. They went into an alley.”

Barrow’s bleak expression turned another shade of grim. He met Spode’s eyes. “Sounds like they knew they were being followed.”

Spode nodded and turned back to Fletch. “Do you think the oracle picked up on the recorder, or was it her companion?”

“Ink said he was sure it was the guy she hooked up with who realized what was going on,” Fletch said. “Anyhow, he went back to her apartment with her. Had a duffel bag. Looked like he planned to spend the night.”

“That means he’s the problem,” Spode said to Barrow. “We have to assume he knows that Olivia LeClair is the oracle. It’s . . . unfortunate that he got to her first.”

“Ink and the rest of the team are still in Seattle, keeping an eye on the oracle,” Fletch said. “Ink said to tell you they will take care of the man and grab the woman first chance they get.”

“We are close.” Spode watched the orcas for a while. “So close.”

“Yes, sir,” Fletch said. “We’ll get her, sir.”

There was, Spode thought, nothing quite like the supreme self-confidence of youth, especially youth that had been psychically enhanced. Once upon a time he had enjoyed that glorious sensation, too.

“Go get something to eat,” he said.

“Yes, sir.”

Fletch took off, loping up the path to the old monastery.

Barrow watched him for a moment. “The kid needs another dose of the serum.”

“So do you.” Spode exhaled slowly. “We both do. But the stuff is killing us.”

“It’s the only thing keeping us alive.”

Spode nodded.

They sat together in silence, two men who had killed together and were now facing death together. They had never been lovers, but somewhere along the line they had become closer than most lovers.